All I Want for Christmas is You
by The-Missing-Paige
Summary: It's Christmas in Amestris, and the military is hosting an event for the citizens of Central. Due to sheer luck (or lack thereof), Roy Mustang is forced to play the part of Santa Claus, and he has ask all the children what exactly they want for Christmas…including a certain tiny alchemist he didn't expect.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, or any related characters. I also do not own the song "All I Want for Christmas is You."**

**Merry Christmas everyone~!**

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><p>"Alright everyone, listen up!" Roy barked, entering the office area with a sour expression.<p>

Edward looked up, glad for a distraction from his paperwork, especially if that distraction was Roy. He grinned, seeing the man's irritated look—just because he had a thing for Roy didn't mean he didn't think it was funny as hell when he wasn't his usual calm, collected self.

Once everyone was looking in his direction, Roy explained the situation in clipped tones. "I just got the orders from the higher ups. In order to make the military appear friendlier, we're supposed to host an event in the courtyard on Christmas Eve. In case you've forgotten, that's this coming Wednesday."

Interrupting, Ed raised his hand. "So? Why look so down, Mustang? You don't like Christmas?"

The man sent him a glare. "I don't _mind_ Christmas, but…" He sighed, then went on, pulling a bag out of his pocket. "Look, the thing is, it was decided that one of my people is supposed to dress up as Santa and deal with the kids who come. You know, have them sit on your lap, ask them what they want, the usual."

The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. It wasn't that they didn't like Christmas, or didn't want the kids to have a good time—but it was understood, without anyone having to say so, that whoever ended up playing Santa would have to deal with a great deal of ribbing long afer the holiday season was over.

"In this bag," Roy went on, holding said object up, "are eight marbles, one for each of you. One is red; whoever pulls out the red marble has to be Santa."

Havoc did a quick head count. "Uh, there are nine of us, Colonel."

"Only if you count Lieutenant Hawkeye, which we aren't, because she's defaulting as Mrs. Claus."

Everybody hastily looked away from the Lieutenant, who looked to be thoroughly displeased with this arrangement. Edward wondered briefly what the "Mrs. Claus" costume looked like, and had to stifle a laugh. If Roy had had anything to do with the design, it was bound to be absurd.

"You have a marble in there for me, right?" Alphonse piped up. "That won't work. I can't be Santa with this armor, the kids will be scared…" Ed glanced sideways at his brother, placing a hand on Al's shoulder. Alphonse was perhaps the only one in the room who would have volunteered for the job, were he able to do so. Unfortunately, that just wasn't the case.

"That's true," Roy agreed, reaching into the bag and removing a green marble. Red and green. How festive. "Alright, everyone else come on up and pick a marble."

"Hold on," Edward intervened. "How about I sit this one out? I'm just a kid, as you so kindly remind me all the time, Mustang, so I'm not really suitable—"

"No arguments, Fullmetal. You're a child, yes, but as _you_ are fond of pointing out, your age is only a number and you're plenty old enough to take on the duties of an adult."

Ed flushed, more at the comment about age only being a number than anything. He was more than aware that the saying usually pertained to couples with a significant age gap, and wondered if Roy perhaps knew that as well. "Whatever," he sighed, reaching into the bag.

He pulled out a green marble.

All around him, the team was shouting out in joy, each of them having grabbed a green marble. Edward raised his eyebrows, then looked back to Roy who, with a stony expression, reached into the bag to pull out the last remaining marble: the red one.

"Better luck next time, Colonel," Breda chuckled, heading back to his seat.

"Yeah, you'd best go get prepared, _Santa_, Christmas isn't far off," Havoc added.

For once in his life, Ed refrained from saying anything. Roy looked like he might snap—literally—at any moment, and he really didn't feel like being the target.

Still, when he thought about it, it was pretty funny, the idea of Roy acting the part of a jolly, old, fat man. Resting a hand on his chin, Edward looked out the window. Snow was falling gently, little white flakes coating the sill. He hoped it would stay—a white Christmas would be awesome.

Roy stalked off to his office, slamming the door behind him. Breda and Havoc, giggling, placed a radio just outside the door and turned it on. "All I Want for Christmas is You" began to play, and they turned up the volume. The door to Roy's office thumped, as though the man inside had thrown something at it. Perhaps a shoe.

_I don't want a lot for Christmas_

_There is just one thing I need_

_I don't care about the presents_

_Underneath the Christmas tree_

_I just want you for my own_

_More than you could ever know_

Ed sighed lightly, turning back to his paperwork. Why _this_ song? It was so, _so_ painfully true. Winter was his favorite season—even though he wasn't fond of the cold, the snow was beautiful and it just fit so nicely with Christmas. But it did feel rather like something that should have been enjoyed with someone else, instead of alone…

_Make my wish come true_

_All I want for Christmas is you_

"Brother?" Alphonse asked. "Are you alright?"

Blinking out of his reverie, Edward forced a smile onto his face. "Yeah, fine."

"Don't lie to me, Brother. I know you were thinking about him."

Eyes widening, Ed clapped a hand over his brother's mouth, which was completely pointless, really. "Al, shhh! Someone will hear you!"

"Brother, I'm whispering, and everyone's paying attention to the music right now. Including you."

Edward could have groaned. "Okay, fine, you caught me. Happy?"

"No. You're upset."

_'Cause I just want you here tonight_

_Holding on to me so tight_

_What more can I do?_

_Baby, all I want for Christmas is you_

Briefly Ed fought the urge to scream, or at the very least throw something at the radio to make the stupid thing stop. He had a rather intense love-hate relationship with this song. "I know, Al. But what am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, I don't know….maybe _tell him_?" Alphonse responded sarcastically. "Come on. What better Christmas present to yourself than the Colonel?"

"He likes girls, Al."

"Right. Girls fawn over him, sure, but haven't you noticed? He never stays with them."

Edward rolled his eyes. "That's just because he doesn't want just _one_."

"Or maybe," Al huffed, "it's that he doesn't want _any_ of them."

Ed was trying hard not to think, not to let himself get hopeful at his brother's words as the song came to a close. It was just so unlikely, such an impossible thing to wish for…

_Make my wish come true_

Then again…wasn't Christmas the time when miracles were supposed to happen?

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><p>Edward was sure this was going to be a terrifying experience, if he didn't die of embarassment first. At the moment, it seemed like he could go either way; his heart was thumping so hard he could feel it in the palms of his hands.<p>

Shivering, Ed walked up and joined the tiny throng of kids wanting to sit on "Santa's" lap. It was late—they would be closing up soon. These kids were just the stragglers, and that was how Edward wanted it. He didn't want to ruin their fun by butting in where he didn't belong, so he'd waited until it was just about time for everyone to pack up.

At the end of the tiny queue now, Edward looked around. It really was as though the world were working with him for once; everything was perfect. There was a chill in the air, not so much that it was impossible to be outside, but just enough to merit a blanket, hot chocolate, and someone to be close to. Snow had fallen steadily all week, and it looked like Ed was getting his white Christmas—the entire courtyard was covered in the stuff. Add that to the fact that night had long since fallen, and the only source of light were the Christmas decorations that splashed bright colors on everyone's faces…it was beautiful out.

Perfect.

He just needed one more thing.

Edward was almost at the front of the line now, and he was quivering with nervousness. He listened as the little boy in front of him asked Roy, "Where'd your beard go, Santa?" It was a good question—this was the most attractive Santa Claus Ed had ever seen. It appeared Roy wasn't willing to go into full costume, donning just the hat and suit without the beard and chub.

Roy laughed heartily—for someone who hadn't wanted the job, he was quite good at it. "Mrs. Claus wanted me to shave it off, and you have to listen to the ladies," he responded, winking as he pulled the boy into his lap.

Doubt flooded over Ed. Was this really such a good idea? Especially with Hawkeye, the girl everyone _knew_ Roy had a soft spot for, standing over the man's shoulder in a suggestive getup with a rather un-jolly expression…

But he couldn't leave now, because the little boy was gone and suddenly it was Edward's turn.

Roy's eyebrows flew upwards in surprise, before scrunching together again with confusion. "Fullmetal? What the fuck are you doing here?"

It was Ed's turn to raise an eyebrow, trying to play it cool as he responded, "'Fuck?' Shouldn't you be watching your tongue a little bit more when you're playing Santa?"

The man scooted forward in his chair, as if he meant to get up. "Nice try, but look behind you—no more kids. I'm done."

Quickly, before Roy could actually exit his seat, before he could lose his nerve, Edward stepped forward, blocking his way. "There's still me."

This left Roy shell shocked for a moment. Ed could feel his face heating up, but there was nothing he could do about that, and now that he'd started he was going to finish, damn it. "Wha—you're not—are you seriously going to do this right now, Fullmetal!?"

"It might make it a little easier if you called me 'Ed.' At the very least, 'Edward' would be great." Ed stood there, trying to maintain his composure. He'd already made the deal with himself that he wasn't going to do this if Roy didn't comply and ask him to sit down. There was no point in forcing himself on the man—if Roy wouldn't even let him sit on his lap, he sure as hell wasn't going to reciprocate Edward's feelings any time soon.

The man gave him a long look, sighed, closed his eyes, and shook his head—and then settled back into the chair. "Alright, Ed. Come here."

Torn between nerves and a giddiness that Roy had just _asked him to sit on his lap_, Edward moved forward shakily, straddling the man in a way that was, admittedly, quite unusual and definitely inappropriate for a kid talking to Santa.

Behind Roy, Ed could feel Hawkeye's gaze on him. Oh, this was _so_ embarrassing…but he was here. He was on Roy's lap and the man wasn't pushing him off. She could just sit there and deal with it and Edward would pretend he wasn't being watched.

"So, Ed…what do you want for Christmas?"

Shivering at the question, at the fact that Roy was playing along, Edward leaned in close, whispering in the man's ear his practiced lines, derived from that song: "I don't want a lot for Christmas, you know. There's actually just _one_ thing I want…one thing I need, actually." Here he paused, trying to breathe. His heart was beating wildly, trying to escape his chest through his throat.

"And what's that?" Roy murmured, breath tickling Edward's hair.

"I don't care about typical presents; nothing you could put under a Christmas tree matters to me." Ed choked up, couldn't say any more, couldn't make the words come. _Why_ did this have to happen now, when he was so _close_?

"Keep going," the man whispered, and Edward suddenly was struck with the thought that Roy knew _exactly _where he was getting this from. And he _still_ wasn't pushing Ed away.

Bolstered by the notion, Edward continued with the hardest line. "I just want you to be mine. More than you could ever imagine."

He heard Roy gasp lightly, felt the hint of a grin against his ear. Ed pulled back, mustering up all of his courage to look the man in the eye as he finished. "Please, Roy. Please make my wish come true. Because all I _really_ want for Christmas is…you."

That was it. He was done. Edward dropped his gaze, all semblance of courage gone as his face turned pink, but a gloved hand pulled his chin back up. "You know," Roy murmured, "with every other kid today, all I've been able to do is tell them I'd pass on the word to the elves and have them make the right toys, or something like that. But with you…" Suddenly the man's face was impossibly close, obscuring Ed's vision entirely. "I can actually give you what you want."

Edward inhaled sharply, and Roy took the opportunity to press their lips together, hands cupping Ed's cheeks. It was everything he'd ever imagined it to be; warm and just a little rough, Roy pressing hard against him, and so, _so_ perfect.

When the man pulled away, Edward let out a little, breathless laugh, resting his forehead against Roy's. He couldn't believe that after all this time pining after him, it had been that easy…

"Merry Christmas, Ed."


End file.
